Saturday, 9 March 2013
Politically-correct soft-core pornography
Anyone who still doesn't believe there's a massive shitstorm coming our way probably never will. How does one gain tactical advantage in a hostage situation from the safety of their bullet-proof death machine? Anyone? No? Okay then, how do sound cannons assist in negotiations? Because, unless the hostage taker also has a sound cannon, being heard a kilometer away is a rather one sided negotiation...
Another obvious question is how does spending millions of dollars per militarized police vehicle fit into Crime Minister Harper's Economic Action Plan? It does not sound very fiscally responsible to me, unless there is some 'future need' to mow down crowds in a barrage of bullets and ear-drum bursting 'commands'. No, I'm pretty sure this is the terrain it was designed for, despite that they should really be used to fix problems like this one.
It really doesn't seem to fit with that international image we've projected as being 'nice' and 'polite' as a society. But then, having walked around the streets of downtown Toronto many times, I'm not sure where that image came from in the first place... Must have been a random sampling of 1% of the population of Newfoundland that was taken during cod-fishing season, or something.
Don't expect media coverage to support me, some of them are already above the law anyway. "Fair Use"? Never heard of it. Soon enough you just won't hear about anything as the free exchange of ideas falls to Intellectual Property laws, and the smut/violence slowly becomes outlawed replaced with politically correct soft-core pornography.
The revolution will only be televised after it's been crushed under the heel of military force, but by then it will have all the inhuman cartoonish sound effects added, so you and your children will know when to laugh right at the moment a human skull is crushed under the tread of an unfazed tank. No credits will be given to the actor playing the part of 'human skull number 18', but for all we know it could have been yours, or maybe mine. So far the butt of all the jokes have been the water boarded, piled naked into pyramids, detained without trial, or killed without a court appearance "ENEMY" of today. It's easy to loose perspective when the so-called enemy is some brown-skinned towel-heads half a world away from our nice warm cushy beds, while you reassert your belief that it cannot happen here. Until the true butt of the joke comes to light as having been you.
Yes, you. In your arrogant confidence you failed to recognize what has happened to your own country, your own town. You were afraid of being called a kook, or of loosing your government sanctioned labour camp placement (maybe they're called jobs still, but I do not know, as I do not presently have one) if you stood up against the erosion of your rights.
Eventually the smoke and mirrors stage show might even convince you that life is better for not having all that strain of thinking for yourself. But all political promises are eventually proven to be lies and you'll wake up screaming in the middle of the night in the realization that the new world is the same as it ever was, only worse... That's right. Control freaks generally aren't happy unless they've taken over everything from the amount of water you are allowed to consume daily (whether for cooking, cleaning, bathing, or drinking is up to you to decide), how many breaths a day you are permitted, how much electricity you consume daily (though I suspect the television will be exempt, and should remain on at all times).
Don't worry that you smell bad, everybody else does too... I'm sure the government will enforce an international perfume law soon enough and we can all smell like someone took a shit in a rose bush. But it will be a golden age of safety and security, unless you stop watching the approved entertainment long enough to wonder what happened to the next-door neighbours you cheerily greeted yesterday. There wasn't even a for sale sign, and yet today, somebody else lives there? Or that cute girl in accounting? Why doesn't the management even acknowledge that she ever worked here?
And what is that black smoke that's always billowing out of the government re-training center for the hopelessly unemployable? Ah, but it's a world so safe that locking your doors is a crime, so, really, you have nothing to fear but retirement... Why are there no old people anymore, anyway?
I'm sorry if this sounds scary, but to be honest with you, I don't even remember writing those last 4 paragraphs... even though I just, apparently did. I'm not really sure what that means...